


Meditative States

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, Bottom Harry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing in life is easy, but the rewards can be great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meditative States

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 Glompfest on live journal as a gift for lemon_drop151. 
> 
> A little hurt/comfort and a smidge of angst – but a decidedly happy ending. Oh yes....mpreg.

~~Meditative States~~

It was exactly 187 steps from the end of the large silk covered bed, around the pool and back. It annoyed him that he'd actually counted the steps on his fourth trip around the luxurious space he'd reserved for their holiday. He stopped at the bed this time and sat with an exaggerated sigh. " _Tempus_ ," he called out flatly. Seven forty two...five minutes later than the last time he'd checked. He lowered his head into his hands and recalled the conversation he'd had with Harry just three days before.

_"I've set the Portkey for noon on Friday, Potter." Draco said, holding out a small stone amulet. "That allows you three hours to go into the Ministry, despite the fact that you'll already be on holiday and verify that the world will be safe when you're gone. Then drag your arse home to gather your luggage and meet me in Phuket for two weeks of relaxation."_

_"I'll be there," Harry said with a laugh. "I promise you nothing will stop me from taking this holiday." He leaned in and gave Draco a quick kiss on the cheek, as he plucked the amulet from Draco's hand and dropped it into his pocket._

Draco raised his head and muttered, "And yet it's well over an hour past when the Portkey was set to activate and you're not here."

Pushing to his feet, Draco walked over to the dresser and began to rearrange a vase of orchids. He was replacing the long, decorative fronds when he heard the unmistakable pop of someone Apparating into the room.

Expecting the House Elf provided with their rooms, Draco spoke without turning around. "I won't require anything this evening, Bhan." He pulled the frond out and put it back in nearly the same spot. "You're dismissed for the night, thank you."

"I'm not sure if I'm more concerned that you have someone named Bhan taking care of you already or that you couldn't even be arsed to turn around to see who'd Apparated in," Harry's voice was strained.

"I would have turned around if _you'd_ been arsed enough to show up on time," Draco said continuing to fuss with the arrangement.

"I didn't plan on..." Harry paused, finishing his sentence through clenched teeth, "being late at all. There was an incident..."

"Of course there was," Draco interrupted. "We all know that Harry Potter can't pass up the opportunity to rescue the world. What was it this time? Neo-Death Eaters? Another false sighting of McNair?" Draco turned slowly, stopping when he saw Harry.

Harry was clutching his arm to his chest, the shoulder of his robe was torn, and blood was oozing out of what appeared to be a fairly deep wound. There was also a trickle of blood that started near Harry's hairline, slipping down his forehead above his right eye.

"Harry!?" Draco cried, crossing the room. He reached out and touched Harry's forehead. Harry winced and Draco quickly drew his hand back.

"Sorry," Harry apologized. "'s a bit tender."

Draco grasped Harry's arm and led him to the bed. "Bhan!" he called out. The House Elf popped into the room. "I need warm water, some clean bandages and my medical bag from the wardrobe."

"Don't fuss," Harry said with a grimace. "It's just a flesh wound."

"When you have a Mediwizard degree hanging on _your_ wall," Draco said crisply, "then I'll happily bow to your judgement. And what the hell were you thinking, Apparating injured halfway across the fucking planet?"

"I missed the Portkey," Harry said, his voice small.

"Oh, fine then," Draco snapped. "So it wasn't enough that you were already hurt? You wanted to risk splinching yourself, as well?"

Harry looked so crestfallen, and ill, that Draco immediately regretted his tone. "Just... sit down, be still, and let me do my job."

Harry frowned but sat on the edge of the bed. When he bent to unlace his boots, he started and drew in a sharp breath.

"Well that sound tells me there's probably some damage to your ribs as well. Sit up, Potter, and let Bhan remove your boots, socks and clothing. I'd use magic but I don't know what kind of damage I'm going to find." Draco turned his back to Harry, his shoulders tight in anger, and searched through his medical bag. 

Waiting until he heard Harry slide up onto the bed – and the accompanying grunt – Draco turned slowly. He'd used those few seconds to prepare himself for what he would see, but the injuries were more than _just a flesh wound_ and it rattled him. He closed his eyes and centered himself. When opened, his eyes were clear and he began to move in a methodical, practiced manner. Malfoy the Healer was in attendance now and he began by assessing the injuries.

A Quick-quotes-quill and pad hovered at his side and he began dictating. "The patient has severe injuries, obviously resulting from an altercation with one or more parties. There is a laceration running from sternum to the right shoulder and a fair amount of blood has been lost. The bruising on the left lower chest quadrant suggests bruised ribs, although a broken rib or two is more likely. The right chest area appears uninjured, but bruising is flowering from the back and around the side indicating likely kidney injuries." 

"Draco," Harry said softly. "I'm not any more injured now than I have been before. I'll be fine."

"You can't know that, and I'll thank you to please shut up until I'm done here," Draco said, sending Harry a quelling look. Harry collapsed against the pillows, his eyes on the ceiling.

The worst injuries were the broken ribs, the bruising to his kidneys, and the laceration on his shoulder, but Draco wasn't satisfied until he'd completed the body scan. Draco took a few moments to review the scan and his notes. Once certain of Harry's injuries, he removed the appropriate potions from his bag, carefully pouring out the exact dosages. 

"Here," he said brusquely, holding out a purple potion. "Take this one first."

Harry took the potion from his hand docilely and swallowed it, then grimaced. "Merlin, that's vile," he muttered. "Muggles add flavours to the medicines they give children. Can't you make this taste better?"

"Despite the fact that recent events would indicate otherwise," Draco replied, "you are not a child."

Harry looked as though he wanted to retort, but wisely, he held his tongue. 

"Tell me when the pain in your side begins to ease," Draco ordered curtly. "You can't have another potion until that one has reduced the swelling in your kidneys."

Harry nodded, his eyes going back to the ceiling. Even before he finally murmured, "better," Draco knew the potion was taking effect. Harry's hands, which had been fisted at his sides, began to slowly relax, his fingers uncurling.

"All right," he said efficiently. "Now this."

Harry eyed it warily. "What is that one?"

"Skelegrow for those ribs, and I don't care that you hate how it tastes. If you'd stop breaking things, you wouldn't have to take it."

Harry grimaced but again, he took the glass tube in hand, lifted his head, and swallowed. He shuddered, but didn't comment.

Now that the potions had been administered, Draco turned his attention to the laceration on Harry's shoulder, siphoning away the blood, running a scan to make sure there was no muscle or tendon damage. 

It was deep, but the damage was not irreparable, and chanting softly, he drew his wand over the cut, watching as the muscle mended first, then the skin knitted together, leaving just a narrow pink line in its wake.

By the time he'd healed the cut at his hairline, he could see that Harry's eyes had become unfocused, due he was sure to the painkiller he'd added as his own personal improvement to the Skelegrow. 

Draco sighed as he moved to the sink, stripped down and washed his face, arms and hands. He dried his chest absently, then stepped into a pair of loose fitting white pyjama pants. Bhan had straightened the room and left a pitcher of water and glasses on the bedside table, and Draco filled one as he stood by the bed, watching Harry sleep. Silently, he leaned over and gently removed Harry's glasses then brushed his fingers through the riotous black fringe, his fingers lingering over the fresh scar near his hairline. He touched it, his eyes solemn. Even with the addition of the pain killer, Draco knew Harry's sleep would be restless as the bones knit themselves back together. Straightening, he turned to settle on the chaise, and set an alarm on his wand to wake him in three hours before pulling a light blanket over his legs. His last thought as he closed his eyes was that it wasn't exactly how he'd planned to spend the night.

**@@**

Draco woke with a start, quickly silencing the alarm. He winced and rubbed a hand along the crick in his neck. A moan from the bed drew his attention away from his own discomfort and he focused on his _patient_. Even in the dimly lit room he could see the sheen of perspiration on Harry's face. He pushed up to his feet and padded over to the bed, turning the lights up on his way. At the bedside he waved his wand in a complicated gesture. After a few seconds red numbers appeared above the bed. Draco frowned at the high temperature and low blood pressure numbers. He noted them with his quill on the pad of paper by the bed before moving to his medical bag and taking out a bottle of a pale pink potion. Draco measured a small amount into a cup and returned to the bed.

"Potter," he said softly, gently nudging Harry's arm.

"Ngh..." 

"Harry," Draco spoke louder. "I need to give you a Blood-Replenishing Potion. Come on, sit up."

Draco raised Harry's head with one hand and held the glass to his lips with the other. Tilting the glass slightly Draco poured some of the liquid into Harry's mouth; he didn't swallow it and most of the potion ended up down his face and on the covers. 

"Damn it!" Draco growled, lying Harry back onto the pillows. He hurried into the bathroom, wet a towel and went back to the bed.

Harry's eyes fluttered and then slowly opened. He winced at the light and closed his eyes tightly. "Bright," he choked out.

Draco lowered the lights with a wave of his hand. "Harry," he said softly, "I need you to sit up a bit so I can give you this potion."

"Tired," Harry muttered.

"I know you're tired, but you need this potion. Come on, I'll hold you up... I just need you to drink."

Draco raised Harry again and this time managed to get a good measure of the potion into Harry's mouth. He lowered his partner back down to the bed, unable to resist running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. It was wet against his fingertips. 

Harry looked up at him through his thick lashes. "I'm sorry..." he murmured.

"For what?" Draco said, sounding angrier than he intended, but unable to help himself. "For nearly getting yourself killed again?"

Draco started to pull away, but Harry caught his hand. He sighed heavily as he gripped his fingers. "For ruining..." he gestured gracelessly with his other hand, "...all of this." He squeezed Draco's fingers. "For frightening you, and making you worry."

Draco pulled at his hand. "I wasn't frightened. I'm bloody furious."

Harry held onto his hand. "Draco," he murmured, his eyes still half-lidded, but far more perceptive than Draco wanted them to be.

He rolled his eyes and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. "I can't keep doing this, Harry," he said finally. "I can't. Every time you're late, I imagine the worst. Every time I know you're in Emergency, every time they have to patch you up, a little part of me dies. You're risking your life over and over again, and for what?"

Again, Harry sighed. "I used to know," he murmured. "I don't so much... anymore..." His eyes began to drift closed again, and Draco leaned over him in resignation. 

"Go back to sleep. You're fighting your own body, and six different kinds of potions." He touched the damp skin of Harry's cheek gently. "But we aren't done talking about this, Potter. Passing out isn't going to help you."

A weak grin pulled at the corner of Harry's lips. "I didn't imagine it would," he whispered. "Kiss me?"

Draco made a disgruntled sound, but leaned over and brushed Harry's lips with his own. Surprising him, Harry managed to get his hand up, holding him in place, and the green eyes opened again.

"I love you," Harry said. "More than anything."

Draco sighed even as his heart lifted for the first time since Harry had appeared. "So you say," he said snidely, but there was no bite in it.

"You know I do," Harry persisted. Draco studied the sleepy eyes for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, I know."

Harry's hand slipped to fall limply onto the pillow near his head, and he was asleep before Draco could straighten.

**@@**

The next two days passed in a blur for Draco. He spent it monitoring Harry and making sure he received his potions on time and getting very little sleep. The afternoon of the third day Draco was beginning to become concerned that Harry wasn't healing properly or quickly enough. He was contemplating a fire-call to St Mungo's when Harry began to stir.

"Draco?" Harry's voice was raspy. "I...water."

"Well, well," Draco replied dryly, "I see sleeping beauty has awakened from his slumber." He poured some water and gave Harry a small drink. "Not too much right now. You've been out of it for three days; if you drink too fast you'll make yourself sick. He reached for Harry's wrist and began to count. 

Harry tried to push himself up. "Fuck," he cried out, grimacing. 

"For the love of Merlin, Potter," Draco scolded, "lie still before you undo all of my efforts."

Frowning, Harry laid back against the pillows. "I've been injured before," he said petulantly. 

Draco stopped, turned and stared at Harry, his expression blank. "I'm fully aware that you've been previously injured. Possibly more aware of it than you are." He took a deep breath. "And make no mistake, you and I will be addressing that issue soon enough, but right now I need to cast a full body scan and you _will_ lie still."

When the scan was complete Draco sat at the foot of the bed, his hand resting on Harry's leg. "So, Healer Malfoy," Harry said with a smirk, "will I live?"

Draco hesitated for a second before he replied. "It appears that you've escaped death yet again, Potter, but not for lack of trying. Now, let's get you into a nice bath. Three days of gentle cleaning spells are not enough." Draco wrinkled his nose as he stood.

**@@**

The sun was low in the sky by the time Harry settled in the tub with a long sigh and watched the steam rise from the surface. The bath, like most of the rooms in their bungalow was open, save for the sliding rice papers walls that gave privacy as needed. He inhaled the mingling scents of sage, eucalyptus and peppermint and smiled, knowing Draco had chosen those particular oils for their healing properties. As quickly as he smiled, he frowned, the realization that but for his injuries he could be enjoying this bath with Draco hitting him like a bludger. He pushed his glasses up on his head and scrubbed his face with his hands. Pressing his fingers against the unexplained tears that filled his eyes, he wondered, not for the first time, where his life was headed.

He heard Draco walking down the hall and quickly slid down into the water to cover his tears. He spluttered as he rose, a smile back on his face. "Come on in," he said lightly, "the water's fine."

Draco leaned against the wall, bare feet elegantly crossed at the ankles. "Maybe next time; this one is formulated to finish your healing."

"Can't blame a wizard for trying," Harry said.

"Barely out of a sick bed and you're already propositioning me," Draco said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're impossible, Potter."

"Draco..." Harry said softly.

Draco shook his head. "Not tonight. I've spent the last three nights monitoring you and what little sleep I managed to get was in a chair. To say I'm exhausted is gross understatement. The best plan for tonight is a light supper and several hours of sleep." He pushed off the wall and walked to the edge of the bath. "I'll send Bhan in with your robe, while I set up supper."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again with a subdued nod.

Supper was a quiet affair; the only conversation was a brief discussion about the bungalow and the soup they were eating. Harry knew better than to try to talk to Draco right now, but he knew that before long they were going to have to discuss some things. The only problem was...he knew Draco wanted answers and Harry simply didn't have them.

They slid silently into bed, each on their own side. Harry lay on his back, shoulders stiff and his eyes on the ceiling, willing himself not to cry. In the three years they'd been together, they had never slept in the same bed without cuddling or touching in some way. With his emotions on edge, Draco's distance seemed particularly ominous. So when Draco's hand reached over and took Harry's in his, Harry sighed and linked their fingers, the tension draining from his shoulders. 

Harry woke early, disoriented in the early morning light. He shifted in bed and smiled at the sight of Draco lying next to him. He raised himself up on one elbow and watched his partner sleep. It worried him that the crease between Draco's eyes – the one that appeared whenever Harry was injured – had not gone away with a good night's sleep. Harry slipped quietly from the bed and padded barefoot into the bathroom. 

Finished with an abbreviated morning routine, Harry took some time to explore the bungalow. The bedroom looked out on a private pool. At the far end of the property there was a small open structure, with a table of some sort on one side and several large pillows on the floor on the other side. Harry peered at it curiously and made a mental note to ask Draco about it later. As his exploration continued, Harry was surprised to find that not only did they have a large living room, there was also a kitchen so that all their meals could be prepared right there. He felt a twinge of guilt when he realized exactly how much trouble Draco had gone through to plan this trip and to insure their privacy.

Harry peeked into the bedroom and saw that Draco hadn't moved since he'd left the bed. He silently left the bungalow and walked along the side of the pool. Dipping a toe into the water and finding it warm, he bent down to roll his pyjama pant legs to his knees before sitting at the edge and letting his feet dangle in the warm water. As he played over the past few days in his mind, the little bits he could actually remember, Harry couldn't get past Draco's face when he'd told him _"Every time you're late, I imagine the worst. Every time I know you're in Emergency, every time they have to patch you up, a little part of me dies. You're risking your life over and over again, and for what?"_

Harry suspected that Draco didn't think he'd remember, but he did and now it was all he could think about. He couldn't get the sound or sadness of Draco's voice out of his head. 

He and Draco had discussed this before. Harry knew that every time he was injured, Draco worried. And each time Harry would promise Draco he'd be more careful. But he realized now, as the warm water swirled around his legs and the peace of his surroundings settled over him, that he hadn't; not really.

When he'd begun his career, he'd known what it was all about, what he was risking his life for. The last of the hard line Death Eaters had needed to be captured, and he'd felt as if his mission, the one that Dumbledore had left him, was unfinished.

And so he'd gone into the field, and taken the riskiest missions, because it seemed important that he finish what he'd started. But that had been before Draco, before he'd fallen in love. And now, as he thought back to the worry line that still marred Draco's brow, and remembered the sadness in those grey eyes as he'd walked away from him the night before, it was suddenly blindingly clear what he was risking.

His 'mission' would never be done. There would always be someone who felt that they could take the 'boy-who-lived'. If he waited until the world was free of evil, he'd be waiting forever. And he'd lose what mattered most to him. If he didn't stop, he'd lose Draco. He rubbed the aching center of his chest, his brow furrowed. But if he stopped being an Auror...what would he do? And the question that nagged, the one he'd refused to think about...if he wasn't an Auror – _who_ would he be?

"Feeling better, then?" Draco called out from the bungalow. 

Harry looked up and smiled. Draco stood in the doorway, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. Harry pushed himself up and met Draco at the door. He wrapped the lithe body in his arms and buried his face in the crook of Draco's neck. They stood for several moments, holding one another. Harry was painfully aware of the distress he'd caused, but wasn't sure how to address it just yet.

He slid his mouth up Draco's neck, across his chin and kissed him deeply. Draco shifted, moving his lips against Harry's cheek. "You've still bridges to mend, Potter. This isn't done."

Harry stepped back and rested his hands on Draco's shoulders, looking him in the eyes. "I know I hurt you. What I don't know is how to fix it."

"Some major grovelling and spectacular sex is always a good start," Draco teased. "But...not until you've healed."

Harry sighed, stepping back in and pressing his groin against Draco's hip. "This wasn't injured."

"Indeed," Draco said taking a step back, "but it just might be if you try that again before all the potions are out of your system." He reached over and laid his hand on Harry's arm. "You looked deep in thought before. Should I be worried?"

Harry's smile was weak. "Not really. Just some things I need to sort out. I think you already know most of it."

Draco nodded. "Food first and then talk. I'm famished."

**@@**

When breakfast was over, they moved out to the pool. They sat on a bench; Harry reached out and took Draco's hand in his, linking their fingers.

"I know you're angry," he raised his other hand to quiet Draco, "and I don't blame you. And I know you want to yell at me and tell me what an idiot I am."

Draco arched his brow and gave Harry a pointed look, but didn't reply.

Harry's tone became soft. "I know you think I should quit being an Auror. And...well, maybe you're right." He paused, his eyes on Draco's hand, his brow furrowed. "I've thought about it often. But every time, I wonder what would I do?" He lifted his head then, and found Draco's eyes. "Draco, I know this is going to sound stupid to you, but... it's who I am, who I've become. I don't know how to be anything else. I've spent the last fourteen years saving the world. Without it, I can't help but think I won't matter anymore. How could you possibly want someone who's...nothing?" His eyes filled with tears and, embarrassed, he looked down at the ground. 

Draco pulled on Harry's hand until he looked up at him again. "You have no idea, do you?"

"Idea about what?"

Draco shook his head. "You've no idea that you're one of the most powerful and talented wizards in the world. There's no limit to what you can do. But that's only one part of you. I don't love you because you're _Harry Potter, Auror,_ – I love you because of who you are when you're not Harry Potter, Auror. When you're digging in the yard planting flowers or playing with any of the seven million Weasley children."

Harry laughed weakly. "Well that's great but I can't spend the rest of my life digging in the dirt and building forts with the furniture."

"I didn't say you have to build forts and dig in the garden. Only you can decide what you should do. But know this, I have complete faith that whatever you decide...it won't be _nothing_.

Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder. "I'm tired. Maybe I'm not as healed as I thought I was."

Draco pulled Harry to his feet, keeping their fingers linked, and turned towards the bungalow. "I could do with a bit of a rest myself. Let's spend the rest of today in bed and then tomorrow we can spend some time at the beach."

They each stripped to their boxers and slid under the covers. Draco lay on his back and pulled Harry over until his head rested on his chest. He combed his fingers through his hair and placed a kiss on top of Harry's head. 

"Love you," Harry murmured as he drifted off to sleep.

"Of course you do," Draco replied to his already sleeping mate.

**@@**

It was a sound that woke Draco; not loud, but somehow distressed, and he sleepily opened his eyes. The sound came again, and this time he realized that it was coming from beside him, from Harry, who'd turned and was lying on his side, his back to him. When he heard it again, a soft groan as Harry twitched in his sleep, he leaned over him, his hand spreading in the middle of his back.

"Harry," he murmured, and Harry stiffened, inhaling as his eyes blinked open. He turned and looked up at Draco, and for a moment his eyes were unfocused.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked, his hand slipping around Harry's side to spread on his stomach. "Are you in pain?"

Harry swallowed and cleared his throat. "No, no pain." His voice sounded rough, and Draco smoothed his hand up over his chest.

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded again, his eyes clearer. 

"Bad dream?" Draco asked, caressing the smooth skin. Harry hesitated, then nodded slightly. "About the war?"

"No." Harry placed his hand over Draco's, linking their fingers. "No, just... work stuff. It doesn't matter."

Harry's head rolled back until his cheek was on his pillow and he was staring at the far wall. Draco leaned against him, his chest against his back, and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. "You're so tense," he murmured. "You're supposed to relax, and get well." He leaned back slightly, moving his hand from Harry's chest to his shoulder, where he squeezed. The muscles under his fingers were rigid, and he frowned. "Why don't you lose the pants and lay on your stomach, and I'll give you a massage."

It was a testament to either how tired he still was, or how affected by the dream that he didn't make some flippant remark about what he really wanted to have massaged, and the lack of it worried Draco a little. He sat up on his knees as Harry shimmied out of his boxers and tossed them aside, then leaned over and took a bottle of scented oil off of the nightstand. He'd put it there before Harry had arrived the first night and completely forgotten about it. Now, he opened it, and immediately the scents of frankincense and myrrh filled the room.

Harry lay back down on his stomach, and Draco leaned over him, upending the bottle and dribbling a slender trail of the oil from the top of his spine to just above the perfect dimples above his arse. Closing the bottle, Draco set it near his knee on the bed and leaned over, sliding his fingers through the slick oil before spreading his hands and starting to work on the hard muscles above Harry's shoulder blades. He groaned, his voice deep, and Draco felt his body relax into the bed under his hands.

Draco worked on each shoulder, the taut muscles along the knobs of Harry's back, the tenseness of his lower back, leaning into it, his long fingers kneading and smoothing as he felt the stiffness begin to fade. When he reached Harry's arse, and he flexed his fingers to knead the rounded cheeks, Harry let loose a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a groan.

"Gods, Draco," he sighed. "Your hands."

Draco grinned as he continued to work the solid flesh. "Yes, so you've told me."

Harry shot him a look over his shoulder, one black brow arched, the life returning to his green eyes.

"I have another spot that could use a touch of massage."

Draco rolled his eyes even as relief filled his chest. "You definitely need to work on those lines of yours, Potter. You're becoming predictable in your old age."

With a grace and economy of motion Draco both loved and admired, Harry flipped to his back, catching Draco's wrists and pulling him down onto his chest. Draco blinked down at him, then scowled without much heat when he felt Harry's erection press into his hip. 

"Was that predictable?

"No," Draco said sternly. "That was stupid. You're still healing, you great idiot."

Harry grinned up at him, unrepentant. "I'm healed," he countered. "I have this terrific Healer, you see, and he takes such wonderful care of me..."

He rolled his hips up slowly, and Draco shook his head even as his cock seemed to twitch and take an interest in the proceedings. "Flattery will get you hexed into next week, Potter," he said dryly. "And stop. Moving." He freed his hands and reached down, pushing Potter's hips down into the bed. 

Harry's grin turned wicked. "Getting to you, am I?" He lifted his chin and ran his tongue along the turn of Draco's jaw. "You taste good," he murmured, catching the point of Draco's chin between his teeth and giving it an affectionate nibble. When he opened his mouth on the side of Draco's throat, Draco's eyes rolled closed. "Come on." Harry spread his legs and Draco found himself settling into the resulting space. "I'm so much better."

"You're not that much better," Draco argued, but even he could hear that his voice was losing its resolve. 

"We've got this great bed, in this great room, and we've yet to exchange even a hand job." Harry ran his hands down Draco's back and filled them with Draco's arse. "Come on, love," he whispered, and Draco felt goose-flesh rise on his back. "I want you."

Draco closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his body responding, in spite of his best intentions, to the allure of the long, lean body beneath him. "Nothing too strenuous," he acquiesced finally, and Harry's smile was brilliant.

"Whatever you say," he agreed eagerly. 

Draco narrowed his eyes and smirked down at him. "Oh, really," he drawled. "Whatever I say?"

Harry's smile remained in place. "Today? Yes. Whatever you say. Tomorrow? We'll have to wait and see."

"Fine, then." Draco shimmied out of his boxers and went up onto his knees. "On your side."

One of Harry's brows quirked. "On my side."

"Yes, facing the door."

Harry hesitated for just a moment, then rolled onto his side and looked over his shoulder. "Like this?"

"Yes." Draco smiled. "Just like that. Now, hold out your hand."

He did, and Draco caught it and turned it palm up before opening the bottle of oil and pouring some into his palm. "Now," he said, pouring some into his own, "touch yourself. Slowly."

"Touch myself," Harry repeated. 

"Yes, dear," Draco said wryly, leaning over and taking Harry's hand, guiding it down to his hard cock and curling his fingers around it. "And I meant it when I said slowly."

Harry grinned and relaxed down onto his side, his fist moving slowly up and down his length. "I can do that." 

"Yes, I'm sure you've ample experience," Draco teased. Harry's smile relaxed at the edges.

"Wanker," he muttered, but his eyes were warm.

"You're the one with your prick in your hand, Potter." Harry chuckled as Draco spread the oil over his hands then lay down behind him. 

"So," Harry said conversationally as Draco leaned forward and nuzzled his face into his neck, "while I'm doing this, what will you be doing?"

Draco slid his hand over Harry's arse, his fingers slipping into the crease between his cheeks, unerringly finding his puckered opening, circling it with the tip of one slick finger.

"Oh," Harry said, his voice breathy. "That."

"Mmhmmm," Draco murmured directly into his neck, his finger slowly massaging the tight flesh, just the tip pushing inside.

"That'll... work." Draco heard Harry swallow with a knowing smile. 

"Slowly, Potter," he scolded when the pace of Harry's hand increased. "You go slowly, or we stop. That's the deal."

"Fucker," Harry muttered. Draco chuckled. 

"To be sure," Draco whispered, burying his finger and crooking it. He felt Harry jerk slightly when he brushed teasingly over the sweet spot.

"Fuck," Harry gasped. Draco smiled as he pressed an opened mouthed kiss into the space between his neck and shoulder, then ran his tongue over the slightly salty skin. He worked the one finger in and out of the clinging heat of Harry’s body, then added a second.

Draco took his time, murmuring against Harry’s skin, admonishing him to slow down when his strokes became too fast or too hard. He looked down the slender body and watched as Harry’s cock appeared and disappeared in his fist, the swollen head now peaking above the rim of his foreskin, a pearly drop of pre-come glinting in the slit. By the time he had a third finger buried up Harry’s arse, rotating his hand to stretch the tight muscle, Harry had his head back against Draco’s shoulder and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

"Are you ready for me?" Draco asked right into the shell of Harry’s ear, then licked it slowly. He felt the shudder that ran the length of his partner’s body. Harry nodded raggedly. 

Draco slowly removed his fingers. He caught Harry’s hip and angled his arse, then lined his prick up against his opening. "Here’s how we’re going to do this," Draco murmured, teasing Harry with the tip of his cock. Harry tried to press back, but Draco stopped him with the hand on his hip. "Behave yourself," he scolded. "Now, I’m going to push inside of you until I can’t go any further, until you're so full of me you can hardly breathe," Harry whimpered softly, his head moving restlessly, "and then I’m going to take your cock in my hand, and you’re not going to do a thing, do you understand?"

He heard Harry swallow, and then felt the nod against his shoulder. 

"Good boy." Draco kissed the curve of his jaw, then began to slowly press inside. 

Even with the preparation, Harry was still so tight that it was like having his prick squeezed in a hot, velvet fist. Draco forced himself to breathe deeply and go slowly, particularly when he heard Harry hiss, but eventually he was all the way inside, his groin pressed to Harry’s arse, feeling the grip of Harry’s heat from base to tip. He wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, then reached down and pushed his hand away, curling his own fingers around the still hard cock. He gave it a couple of experimental strokes, and he heard Harry’s breath hitch. 

"You’re so tight," Draco murmured, his lips travelling down the side of Harry’s throat. "So hot, squeezing all around me." He pulled back, feeling the slow drag, and pushed back in, his eyes rolling shut in pleasure. "Lift your leg, Harry." Harry’s top leg lifted and moved back, his foot hooking behind Draco’s calf. "That’s it. You feel so fucking amazing." He thrust again, torturously slow, then again. He stroked his fist up and down Harry’s length and listened to the harshness of his breathing. "Does it feel good, Harry?" He let his hand slide from Harry’s cock to his balls, and he rolled them carefully in his hand, holding still inside of him. "Do I feel good to you?"

"Yes," Harry gasped. "So good."

"How about this?" Draco bent Harry forward, then lifted his balls, pressing behind them and pulling out before slowly thrusting back in. He heard Harry groan deep in his chest. "There then?" he asked, doing it again. Harry nodded a bit desperately, pushing his arse back into Draco’s groin. Draco moved into him again, angling his hips up and pushing down with his fingers. When Harry jerked against him with a muted cry, Draco pressed harder, while moving his fingers in a slow massaging motion. 

"Draco!" Harry caught his wrist and squeezed. "I can’t…I’m going to come!"

"That’s good," Draco whispered into his ear. "That’s good, Harry. Go ahead. I’ve got you." He continued to massage the swollen, thickened ridge of Harry’s perineum but also began to move in slow, shallow thrusts inside of him. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw Harry’s neglected cock, swollen and red, brushing his belly with each stroke.

"I need… Draco, please… I need…"

"Touch yourself, Harry," Draco urged. "Go on."

Harry curled a desperate hand around his cock, fisting himself gracelessly. It wasn’t more than two hard strokes before he stiffened, shuddering in Draco’s arms and shooting come over his fist with a sharp cry. Draco wrapped both arms around him as he jerked and gasped, and the convulsive grip of his arse around his cock was almost more than Draco could stand. When Harry went limp in his arms, Draco held him and thrust into him in a tight, rolling motion, burying his face in the dark hair and coming within moments, uttering a stark cry. 

They lay linked for a long time, silent, breath ragged, but finally Draco softened enough that he slipped easily from Harry’s body. Harry’s sigh was shaky as Draco pulled him back against his chest and buried his face his Harry’s damp hair. 

"I love you, Draco," Harry murmured, his hands curling around the arms crossed over his chest and gripping them.

"I know you do." Draco nuzzled the back of his head. "And I love you, too." 

They spent the remainder of the day in bed, nibbling on local fruits, custard apples, guava and papaya slices, and whatever else Bhan brought them and napping in-between snacks. They savoured this time together – no interruptions...no friends...no fire calls – the waves on the shore the only other sound in the room.

**@@**

Harry woke as the sun was just rising over the horizon, bathing the bedroom in a pale shade of pink. He looked at Draco in the soft light, gently running a hand over the pert arse cheek that peeked from under the light blanket. When Draco didn't even flinch, Harry slid from the bed and out of the bungalow.

He rubbed his head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that had haunted his dreams and interrupted his sleep. _What did he want from life?_ Truth be told, his job didn't satisfy him the way it once had, and that had been troubling him for some time. He wandered toward the beach, so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't realize where he was until the warm water covered his feet. He looked out at the seemingly endless expanse of blue and sighed. Thousands of miles away and his career was still interfering with his life. He sat on the beach; knees hugged to his chest, and tried to think of what he would do if he left the Aurors. He knew that Minerva would take him on at Hogwarts, but as much as he loved Hogwarts, it no longer felt like home. 

Harry watched the waves as they rolled onto the sand, thinking about different careers. If he was honest with himself he really didn't need to work. He had more than enough money in Gringott's to last a lifetime, but he knew he'd never be happy just lounging around all day. He was so deep in thought he didn't even notice Draco until he sat down next to him on the sand.

"I was worried when I woke and you were gone," Draco said, nudging Harry lightly with his shoulder. "Thought maybe Kingsley fire-called and you were off saving the world again."

Harry smiled. "I thought about it when he called," he said with a smirk, "but then I remembered how very much my partner hated it when I ran off on him."

Draco slid an arm around Harry and pulled him to his side. "Should I ask what you were thinking about?"

Harry laid his head on Draco's shoulder. "I'm fairly certain you know. Just trying to decide how to make things right. So you're happy."

Draco leaned back and looked at Harry, his brow furrowed. "Harry, it's not about making me happy. It needs to be about making you happy. If you truly want to be an Auror – then do it because you love it. Not because you feel an obligation to do it."

"But you hate that I'm an Auror," Harry said softly.

"What I hate is the obligation you feel towards your job. If you went to work every day and you could honestly tell me you loved it...I'd find a way to cope with the other parts. But when I have to practically throw you into the floo in the morning to get you to work, well, that tells me you don't want to do it anymore. 

Harry sighed and curled into Draco's side. "I just don't know what else to do...who else to be." His stomach chose that moment to growl and they laughed. "If I promise to really think about it, can we please enjoy our time here? I don't want to think about it right now, but I swear I'll figure it out when we're home."

Draco stood and offered Harry his hand, pulling him up from the sand. He turned Harry's hand and kissed the still bruised knuckles. "I think that's an excellent plan."

They walked hand in hand back to the bungalow. When they passed the open-sided structure with the pillows on the floor, Harry remembered he'd meant to ask about it. 

"What's that for," he queried with a nod toward the structure.

Draco glanced over to where Harry was pointing. "It's a meditation hut."

Harry frowned. "A..."

"Meditation hut," Draco repeated, enunciating carefully. "It might be a good idea for you to spend some time in it, but if the meaning of meditation escapes you –" He sent Harry a teasing look. 

Harry bumped Draco's shoulder with his. "I know what it means," he said dryly. "I'm just not sure I'd know how."

"Seems to me you were meditating pretty intently when I found you at the beach." Draco squeezed his hand. "At least in there you'd have pillows to sit on."

Harry sent him a small smile. "Indeed. Maybe we could _meditate_ together."

Draco shook his head. "You're impossible," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "But I suppose if I'd wanted someone cerebral, it wouldn't be you here, now would it?" 

Harry's protest was quieted by Draco's finger over his lips. "Besides, now that you're healed you likely won't have much time for meditation." He winked and walked over to a table where Bhan had prepared a delicious breakfast and set it out for them. He sat and placed his napkin on his lap. " _I_ have some very good ideas about how to spend our time here."

**@@**

The rest of their holiday passed quickly. On their last morning in Phuket, Draco and Harry were on the beach enjoying the solitude.

"This was good," Harry said suddenly. "I mean, not how it started, but...the rest."

Draco smiled. "It was good. It was exactly what we both needed. Time away for just us."

Harry leaned into Draco's shoulder and sighed. As they sat watching the waves, a small boy ran to the edge of the water. He stopped when the waves washed up close to his feet, squealing in obvious delight. A man came jogging up to the boy, scooping him up and tossing him in the air. Their giggles echoed across the beach. Soon they were joined by a woman who was clearly reprimanding the father for his behaviour. The father appeared repentant until the mother turned her back and he winked conspiratorially at their son.

Harry laughed out loud at the sight. 

"We could do that, you know," Draco said casually. 

"Toss random children into the air," Harry replied with a laugh. "I think their parents might take issue."

Draco shot Harry a look. "No...that." He waved his hand toward the family now gathered on a blanket eating an assortment of fruit. "A family."

Harry nodded. "I know. And one day we will. But I have some things I need to figure out first."

"Yes, yes, and likely some corner of the world to save."

Draco was smiling as he spoke, but Harry heard the undertone which quite clearly said 'yet again'.

Before long, it was time to return to the bungalow. Bhan had transported their luggage back to London already, so the room seemed particularly bare. Harry took the amulet Draco had given him before the trip out of his pocket. He looked wistfully around the room as the Portkey activated and the tug behind his navel whisked him from the bungalow.

**@@**

Harry sat at his desk at the Ministry, mindlessly staring at the reports in front of him. Nearly as soon as they'd returned, things had gone right back to the way they were before their holiday.

An outbreak of Wizard's Flu had Draco working nearly around the clock. And Harry had been assigned to routine investigations when he first returned, as was procedure after an Auror was injured. At the end of his third week back, Kingsley began hinting that Harry needed to "get back out there where the real action was".

Harry left that evening, still annoyed with Kingsley. He was, in fact, so engrossed in slamming pots in the kitchen, he never heard Draco as he Floo'd home. 

"Is there a particular reason you've begun to abuse the cookware?" Draco drawled. Harry jumped in surprise. 

"Fucking hell, Draco!" Harry bent over in an exaggerated movement and clutched at his chest. 

"Care to tell me what's going on? And give that pot a rest, you great drama queen."

Harry sighed. "I'm just irritated with my boss. He seems to think that every dangerous mission that comes up has my name on it."

Draco bristled. "Perhaps I need to have a conversation with him."

"Why yes." Harry said rolling his eyes. "I think you having a conversation with my boss about my personal safety is precisely the way to go here."

"Potter, if he's endangering you unnecessarily..."

"If he is," Harry interrupted, "I'll be the one to decide that Draco. I appreciate your concern, but honestly, if he is, then I'm the one who needs to tell him so. And trust me, I'm getting there."

Draco's brows rose. "Do tell?"

Harry shrugged, putting the pot on the hob. "I just... I keep thinking about something else, something that happened in Phuket."

Draco took a step closer, his eyes watchful. "And what was that?"

Harry turned back, his hips leaning back against the still cold stove. "Do you remember, that last day when we saw the family on the beach?"

"The parents with the little boy, yes. I remember."

"I can't seem to think about anything else." Harry glanced down at his shoes. "Only now, when I think about it, we're the parents... playing in the water with our son." He looked up, finding that Draco's smile went all the way to his eyes. "I want that," Harry admitted softly. "I want a family. With you."

"So you said when we were there. You also said you weren't ready." Draco reminded him.

Harry blushed. "I never really said I wasn't ready. I just said that yes, one day we would have a family. I'm just not sure how we go about it."

"Go about what?" Draco asked.

"Adopting, finding someone to surrogate for us..." Harry gestured with his hands. "Whatever it is we need to do to have a family."

Draco reached over and took Harry's hand, giving it a pat on the top. "You do remember that we're wizards, right?"

Harry gave Draco an icy look.

"Wizards, Potter...wizards? Able to do magical things that Muggles can't possibly fathom."

Harry looked confused. "So..."

Draco shook his head and smiled. "Oh, Harry. You really were raised by Muggles, weren't you? Let's order some take-away and I'll explain to you how two wizards can have a family."

**@@**

Harry set his fork next to the empty Indian take-away container and sat back against the sofa. "So you and I can have a baby? Our own child?"

"Yes," Draco replied. "If we pass all the tests, there's no reason we can't."

Harry moved across the room and straddled Draco's lap. "So, I think we should practice."

"Oh for the love of Merlin, Potter. Is that the best line you can come up with?"

Harry pressed his groin against Draco's and rolled his hips. Draco's head fell back and he moaned. He leaned forward and nibbled at Draco's neck. "Not my best, but it seems to have done the trick."

Draco bucked and Harry toppled off his lap. With a laugh, Draco grabbed Harry's hand and they headed toward the stairs. 

"Wait," Harry said, stopping and turning back to the living room. With a wave of his hand, the mess from dinner was moved to the sink. He smiled and turned back, pushing Draco up the stairs. "Let's go, I believe you have a thing or two to teach me about becoming a parent."

**@@**

On the following Monday Harry sat at his desk, his quill poised above the parchment he was supposed to be making notes on and his mind thousands of miles away. In his mind, he was back on the beach in Phuket. It was their last morning there, only when the little boy ran onto the beach and the father followed him to the water's edge... he was the unrepentant father, tossing the laughing child into the air. His musing was cut short when Kingsley came striding into his office.

"Potter, get your cloak," Kingsley said without preamble. 

Harry looked up. "Good morning to you too, sir," he replied dryly.

"No time for pleasantries, Potter, I need you on an assignment. Could be dangerous...no one else to send." He turned to leave, not waiting for or expecting a reply. 

"No," Harry said firmly.

Kingsley turned back slowly, his tone low. "Excuse me?"

"I said no." 

"Potter, I don't have time to play around." Kingsley walked to Harry's desk. He leaned forward, his hands resting on the edge of the desk. 

Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Kingsley's face. "Neither do I, sir."

"Then let's end this nonsense. You need to move quickly so you can be briefed before you leave."

"Briefing won't be necessary." Harry stood and slid his robe off his shoulders. "I'm done. You're going to need to find someone else to risk their life _for the cause_ , because frankly, sir, I've had enough."

Kingsley straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you've finished your little hissy-fit..."

"Finished my..." Harry's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed and when he spoke his voice was low. "This isn't something I just decided. For the love of Merlin, Kingsley, I've been miserable for months and if you'd paid any attention at all, you'd not be so shocked right now. Do you know what I realized the other day? I've been an Auror for six years...two thousand one hundred and ninety days. Have you any idea how many of those days were spent either in hospital or recovering from injuries?"

Kingsley rolled his eyes. "I've no clue. Twenty? Thirty?"

"Two hundred and seven."

Kingsley flinched slightly, but shrugged. "Risk of the job, Potter."

"Fuck that! I did everything you ever asked. I put myself out there time after time. I'd get hurt and as soon as you thought I was healed – you'd send me right back out there!" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Not once did you ask me if I wanted to go. NOT ONCE!"

"No one forced you to fight, Potter. You could have said no at any time." Kingsley shifted, his hands moving to his hips. "Don't try to make me the bad guy here. You knew what you were getting into from the beginning. Don't try to tell me you didn't. Nothing's changed."

"That's where you're wrong." Harry tossed his Auror robe onto the chair. "I've changed. I realized that this battle will never be over. There will always be someone who thinks they can run things better or that they're stronger."

"Which is precisely why we need you."

Harry shook his head. "I'm done fighting. I've been fighting since I was eleven. It's time for someone else to step up and fight." 

As Harry walked out the door Kingsley called out, "You'll be back within a week – bored out of your mind. Mark my words."

Harry never turned around as he walked down the hall and stepped into the lift.

**@@**

Draco stepped out of the fireplace and paused, looking around the room. He inhaled deeply, his senses were filled with the aroma of fresh baked bread and, unless he was mistaken, shepherd's pie. Walking towards the kitchen, unsure of what he would find, he paused in the doorway, watching as Harry moved around the room.

"Well aren't you just the little housewife," Draco teased. Harry glanced over, blushing, and opened the door to the oven.

"I got home early, and thought I'd put the extra time to good use."

"You. Got home early." Draco arched a brow. "I believe we need to make a notation of this date on the calendar. Potter arrives home early. In bright red ink, at the very least."

Harry's colour heightened, but he didn't respond, merely bent and took what was, indeed, a shepherd's pie from the oven. Draco stared at the tips of his very pink ears.

"Why is it that I suddenly feel as if I'm missing something?" Draco asked rhetorically, but Harry placed the pie and the pot holder on the counter and turned, excitement mingled with anxiety in his eyes.

"I was going to tell you over dinner," he said, his hands moving nervously for a moment, then going to prop on his hips. "But I think now might be better. At least this way, I know you won't choke on your food."

"Harry..." Draco said, a warning in his tone. "You know I'm not overly fond of surprises." Something occurred to him, and his eyes narrowed. "You are not about to tell me that Shacklebolt is sending you out of the country again, are you? Because so help me, I'll march down there and eviscerate that old bastard with a rusty spoon..."

Harry laughed, and if Draco hadn't been so preoccupied, he'd have noticed the new freedom in the sound. Harry took the few steps that separated them and placed his hands on Draco's shoulders.

"He isn't sending me anywhere," Harry said, his eyes level on Draco's. "In fact, he's never sending me anywhere, ever again." He paused, with all of the suppressed excitement of a child on Christmas eve. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but thrumming with anticipation. "I quit."

"You quit." Draco repeated. 

Harry laughed. "Yes, I quit. Kingsley came into my office, demanded I go to Merlin knows where on some mission. I refused. We had words and I quit."

"You quit." Draco repeated. 

"You sound like a parrot." Harry bit on his bottom lip. "You're not angry, are you? I mean, should I have talked to you first?"

"Angry? Are you kidding me?" Draco pulled Harry into a hug. "It's about damn time, is all I'm going to say. Although I want all the details during dinner." He looked at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. "Should I set that?"

Harry gestured with his head towards the dining room. "Thought we'd do it up right."

Draco picked up the salad and followed Harry to the elegantly set table. Dinner had a celebratory air about it and when they were finished and the kitchen was cleaned they moved to the living room and sat on the couch. 

Draco poured them each a glass of wine. "So now what?"

Harry looked confused.

"Are you planning on sitting around the flat all day, cooking so much that we both gain a stone by the end of the month?" Draco laughed, elbowing Harry in the side.

"Well," Harry ran a finger around the rim of his glass, "Seems all I've done lately is think about the future...our future. And I know I want to have a family..."

"But..." Draco said. "I definitely hear a _but_ in that sentence."

"How would you feel about going back to Phuket?" Harry said, the words coming out in a rush.

"Back to Phuket? For a visit?" Draco's eyes squinted in apparent confusion. 

"Not exactly," Harry continued. "See, I was thinking about what it would be like for us to have children and to raise them here. I mean, we're always in the public eye and no matter what we do, people are constantly talking...judging. And well...I just don't want to do that to our children."

Draco nodded slowly. "I really never thought about it."

Harry sighed. "I have. Especially lately. I know what it's like to grow up with the world watching. Expecting."

"Of all the places in the world," Draco asked, "why Phuket?"

"'M not really sure," Harry said with a shrug. "It was just so peaceful there. And that family...on the beach."

Draco laughed. "They really did make an impression on you, didn't they?"

Harry blushed and looked intently into his wine glass. "Yeah, but it's not just them. It was so beautiful there and I may have made an inquiry or two recently and may have found out that the resort we stayed at is in need of a staff Healer..."

"Well haven't you just been a busy beaver today?"

"We don't have to go..." Harry began, clearly disappointed.

"Actually," Draco interrupted. "When you first mentioned Phuket, I thought you were barking. But after you explained about raising our children around here...it makes sense not to. And if we're going to move why not make it someplace that's not only beautiful, but has a wizarding community who simply does not care who we are."

"Really?" Harry said, eyes bright.

"Really," Draco replied. "Only one thing left to do then; give my notice at St Mungo's."

"Two actually," Harry added. "We need to tell your mother."

Draco sighed. "Three. If we tell my mother and don't tell Hermione..."

Harry smacked his palm against his forehead. "Oh Merlin, how could I forget her?"

Patting Harry on the back, Draco smiled. "I won't tell Hermione, if you don't tell my mother that we nearly forgot to tell them."

"Deal." Harry laughed. "Should we have lunch with your mother tomorrow and dinner with Hermione the next day?"

"I think we need to tell them together," Draco said seriously. "And in a public place. That way neither of them can argue too strenuously."

"Or loudly," Harry added.

Draco stood and moved to the fireplace. "I'll fire-call mother, you call Hermione on your mobile." He shook his head and laughed. "You know they'll be talking to each other the minute we finish – speculating about what's happening."

"Have I ever mentioned that having those two to dinner years ago might not have been such a brilliant idea? Seems like now all they do is discuss us and our lives."

"It could be worse." Draco knelt on the hearth. "They could have hated each other. That would have made the holidays a nightmare." He threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames and called out his mother's name.

Harry laughed as he punched Hermione's number into the phone. He moved to the kitchen to talk out of earshot of Draco's voice.

**@@**

Draco sank onto the sofa and patted the seat next to him. Harry sat next to him and rested his head on Draco's shoulder.

"Well that went better than I expected," Harry said. "At least it did after you took over and explained everything. I'm fairly certain your mother is already at Rachel Riley's or Burberry Kids buying every onesie she can find."

"And Hermione is researching names," Draco interjected.

They laughed and Harry stretched out on the couch, his head in Draco's lap.

Draco ran his fingers through Harry's hair. "I wonder what our child will look like?"

"I'd love a little boy with your hair – Merlin forbid any of our children end up with mine," Harry said.

"The colour would be fine," Draco chuckled, "but without the birds nest appearance. But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves. We've not even discussed who's going to carry the baby."

Harry sat up and turned to Draco. "I just kind of figured I would. I mean...I'm not working." He shrugged. "But you're right, we should talk about it."

Draco held up his hands, palms towards Harry. "Oh no...if you want to do it, feel free. I have no problem with that."

"If it works, I'd like to do it this time..."

"This time? Are you implying that I would do it the next time?" Draco asked.

"Suggesting it," Harry replied. "But let's get through one child first and worry about another later. You still need to finish out your time at St Mungo's and I need to get things packed and move what we want to take and store what we don't."

"You're a wizard, Potter," Draco said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Best get your wand out and get to it then."

"Is that an offer, Malfoy?" Harry countered.

Draco just laughed as he stood and pulled Harry down the hall. "Packing first...sex later. Let's go hot stuff, we have work to do."

**@@**

Harry stretched out on the chaise by the pool. "I can't believe we've been here for over six months."

Draco leaned over and patted the bump on Harry's stomach. "I can't believe you got pregnant as soon as we left London."

"Proud of yourself, are you?"

"They told us it could take up to a year. But they underestimated the Malfoy prowess."

Harry rolled his eyes, then gasped. 

"Are you all right? Is something wrong?" Draco jumped up and stood at Harry's side.

"Look at my feet!" Harry cried out, pointing. "Are they...swollen?"

Draco sat back down on his chaise and sighed. "Don't do that to me. I thought something was wrong."

"Something is wrong," Harry countered. "My feet look like sausages." He stood and walked towards their bungalow. "I need a snack."

Draco ran his hands over his face. "I may not survive this pregnancy," he said to the empty chair beside him. He stood and followed Harry into the bungalow, calling out as he walked. "Potter, you'd best not be eating that mango chutney out of the jar again!"

**@@**

Narcissa scanned the crowd the moment she entered the room. She still wasn't fond of these Ministry functions, but tonight she had but one purpose in attending. Hermione had just returned from a visit to Phuket and Narcissa was very anxious to see the latest photographs of her granddaughter, Clementine Grace.

Finally she spotted Hermione...cornered by the Undersecretary to the Minister, Coriander Terwilliger. Hermione caught Narcissa's eye and shot her a pleading look. 

Narcissa sailed across the room, taking Hermione by the arm. "There you are, Hermione. I've been looking for you all evening. You'll excuse us, Coriander, I simply _must_ have a moment of Miss Granger's time."

Without giving Coriander a chance to reply, Narcissa and Hermione moved across the floor and out onto the balcony. 

"Thank you, Narcissa. Merlin, that woman's lack of intelligence is equalled only by her ability to natter inanely about absolutely nothing." Hermione muttered. "I wanted to iron my ears to prevent me from hearing her anymore."

Narcissa laughed lightly. "How was your trip? Are the boys well? How's my granddaughter?"

Opening her bag, Hermione removed a stack of photographs and handed them to Narcissa. The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile as she watched Clementine run across the beach, pick up a shell and drop it into the bucket she carried. "She's becoming quite the young lady. I can barely believe she'll be four soon. Look how long her hair has grown. And that colour...such a beautiful shade of red. Just like Lily's was. She certainly favours the Potter side. Except for the eyes."

"The eyes are Draco's," they said in unison and laughed.

"How is Draco feeling?" Narcissa inquired.

"As one might at this stage of his pregnancy and living in the tropics. I believe he is convinced that Harry moved them to Phuket simply to cause him more aggravation while he's pregnant," Hermione replied.

"He always was a bit of a drama queen, my Draco," Narcissa said with a smile. "I wouldn't be a bit surprised to learn that he's running Harry in circles with his demands."

Hermione nodded. "The other night he insisted that the baby needed some tom yam soup...at three in the morning! Fortunately Harry remembered a thing or two from his cravings and had some in their kitchen ready to be heated at Draco's command."

"Is that soup good for Draco?"

"The soup itself is very healthy, fresh fish mostly but it's ridiculously hot. Seems Draco has developed a bizarre predilection for hot and spicy cuisine these days." She laughed lightly. "Harry's convinced this baby is going to come out breathing fire." Hermione selected a few of the photographs and handed them to Narcissa. "I know you'll be there in a few days, but these are for you to keep."

Narcissa took the photos and after one final peek at her granddaughter, she tucked them into her handbag. She gave Hermione a hug. "Thank you, dear. I'll put them in my album with Clemmie's other photos."

"Oh and Draco would like you to bring him some Walker's Crisps. The new Thai Sweet Chili ones." Hermione shuddered. "At least he no longer craves the roast chicken flavoured ones."

**@@**

Harry stepped out of the bungalow, his eyes scanning the area for Draco. He'd expected to find him in his favourite chaise, sitting in the shallow end of the pool. He grinned when he located him standing in their Meditation room, knowing it had the best view of the beach.

Quietly Harry crossed their yard and stepped up beside him, an arm sliding casually around the expanding waist. "Spying on your mother and Clemmie?"

Draco gasped and clutched at his belly. "For the love of Merlin...don't you know better than to sneak up on a pregnant wizard?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Like I believe for one minute you didn't know I was coming. Your hearing is remarkable and you have an uncanny sense of where everyone around you is at all times."

"One of the few things I actually learned whilst spying for Dumbledore. Comes in handy with cookie crunchers living with us." Draco laughed. "Can't even sneak a biscuit without my knowledge."

"Lucky for Clemmie Bhan adores and spoils her."

"Yes, yes," Draco said sarcastically, "because we're such mean parents."

Harry chuckled and pointed to the figures on the beach. "I could take a photograph right now and sell it to _The Prophet_ and not one person in all of England would believe that that woman is Narcissa Malfoy."

"And yet there she is, in her glory. Barefoot, wearing clam diggers and hunting sea shells with her granddaughter. They make a lovely pair, don't they?" Draco leaned against Harry, his hands resting on the top of his bump. 

"They do," Harry agreed. "Two of the most beautiful women I've ever seen." Harry reached over and linked their fingers, raising Draco's hand to his mouth and brushing the pale knuckles with his lips. "Thank you," he murmured.

Draco angled his head as he looked into Harry's eyes. "For?" He asked, his eyes mild.

Harry paused. "For allowing me into your life," he answered finally. "And for giving me a reason to stop risking mine."

Draco's smile was slow to develop, but it started in his eyes. "It was the least I could do." He pointed towards the silhouette of his mother and Clementine against the brilliant turquoise water. "Look at my reward."

~~Finis~~


End file.
